“Lucky it’s there,” one of those new fellows said.
“It had to be there,” Will answered him; “because people drink water. Where there are people, there is water.”
Gee whiz, I never knew Will Dawson till that night. And I was mighty proud that he was in my patrol, you can bet.
That girl said, “Isn’t he just wonderful?”
I said, “You’re wonderful, too, and I’d like to have you in my patrol.”
But, one thing, there wasn’t any time to talk, because the sparks were blowing across the clearing and dropping all around the house. The fire that we had started back toward the other one had cleared some land between us and the blaze, but not enough.
The water from the spring trickled down over the rocks and we followed it. It went through a kind of cavern on the top of the mountain, and when we got through there, we could see plain enough that we were on the west slope. The mountain wasn’t all down hill right there, but the trickle of water flowed down through hollows and anybody could see now that Will Dawson was right. He was right for three reasons.
First, because as long as we followed the brook there wouldn’t be any going up and down, like there was climbing up the east side of the mountain. Second, because it took us down the quickest way. And third, because we’d always be near water. In some places we had to scramble down steep precipices where the water fell, but we always managed it, and every time we did that, we knew we were saving space.
After we got about half a mile, we could see points of flame up over the top of the mountain and we knew the fire had reached the spot where we had been. Harry said he guessed the shanty was on fire. Maybe it would come down the east side a ways, we didn’t know, but anyway it wouldn’t have such a breeze to drive it, and we were coming into open land, so we should worry.
The west slope of that mountain was easy, once we got down a ways from the top. That’s the way it is with most all the mountains near the Hudson; the steep side faces the river. Pretty soon we were hiking across pastures and then we came to a road. We didn’t bother with the brook after we passed the steep part. I don’t know where it went, but it did us a good turn, that’s one thing. Some fellows like fire better than water, and I’m not saying anything against camp-fires. And I don’t say that water is always a friend, either, because look at floods and things like that. But I like water better.